


silver and gold, i'd rather have you

by problematiquefave



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Lexa Lives, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 01:16:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16776697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/problematiquefave/pseuds/problematiquefave
Summary: “Is that mistletoe?”Lexa doesn’t understand why Clarke wants the purportedly poisonous plant but obliges in getting it for her. She receives a little something in return.





	silver and gold, i'd rather have you

“Is that mistletoe?”

Lexa’s eyes twitch just before she turns her head over her shoulder, looking back at Clarke. She hasn’t gotten this far without being observant; she takes in a million sights at once but, of them all, three things stick out to her. Firstly, Clarke has stopped – which Lexa does too, digging her legs into the sides of her horse. Secondly, she’s pointing at a green bush high in the naked tree tops. And last but not least, wonder glimmers in her eyes.

Turning her attention back to the plant, Lexa tries to discern what it is. She has a rudimentary understanding of flora but she’s only ever been interested in what she needs to survive. There are too many things demanding her attention to have hobbies. She barely has time for a relationship. She turns an expectant to look one of her guard, one she knows is better informed regarding the subject. He nods.

“I believe so,” she replies. Clarke’s eyes meet hers, a bright smile spreading across her face. It’s blindingly brilliant, so beautiful that it makes Lexa go weak in the knees. Luckily, she’s got a mask of stone and she’s sitting on a horse.

“Oh, that’s so… Well, we heard stories about up on the Ark. Back before everything, it was a holiday tradition to uh…” She goes quiet just as Lexa raises an eyebrow. “I’ve always wanted to see it. Do you think it would be possible to get some down? With the berries, preferably.”

Lexa eyes her guard again. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “It’s poisonous, _heda_.”

“To the touch?” she asks, even-toned.

“No, to swallow. The berries are small and white – they could be easily slipped into food or drink.” His voice wavers, like he realizes what he’s suggesting. Or, more likely, _who_ he’s suggesting it of.

“I trust Clarke,” she states, much to the surprise of no one. “Get some down, make sure to get some berries. And Clarke—” the blonde girl blinks at her “—you’ll have to tell me about this tradition back in Polis.”

Clarke smiles.

She doesn’t regret becoming _heda_. She doesn’t regret winning her conclave or taking on the responsibility but… It’s a _lot_ of responsibility. Lots of meetings, lots of decisions, and lots of strategy. It’s tiresome more than not and, most evenings, she’s ready to crawl in her bed and not see the world until morning. Despite that urge, she tries her best to resist whenever Clarke is around. Tonight is no different.

Upon entering her rooms, she’s greeted with a question from Clarke. “How was your day?” She answers with a small, tired smile.

“Busy.”

“Did you eat?”

Lexa had already noticed the trays of food sitting on the low table and knows where that question leads. Hunger is the last thing on her mind but she shakes her head anyway. “I had a bite but nothing substantive. Have you?”

She shucks off her cloak, approaching the food and the lounge chairs as Clarke responds. “I nibbled a bit,” she replies, “but I was waiting for you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Clarke shrugs. “Someone has to make sure you eat.”

Despite having the thoughts, Lexa doesn’t say anything to that and Clarke doesn’t push it. They take their seats, Lexa leaning back into the furs and cushions as the other girl dishes them up. She takes her plate with a thank you, eyes on her lover as she picks at it. Clarke is more voracious about eating, digging in with abandon, but she pauses when she realizes that Lexa isn’t doing the same.

“Everything okay?”

“Just fine.”

Though she delivers it in the same tone as the rest of her words, Clarke doesn’t buy it. She raises her eyebrows at Lexa, setting her plate down and leaning forward in her seat. The commander doesn’t move. She meets Clarke’s concerned gaze with an unwavering one of her own.

In the end, Clarke is the one to break it. She drops her head with a sigh, pushing herself to her feet. Lexa tilts her head to the side, eyeing her lover as she approaches. If there’s suspicion on her face when Clarke holds out her hand, who’s to judge?

“I want to show you something.”

Lexa would demand answers from anyone else before going off on such a vague request but, well… Clarke is Clarke. She trusts this girl that felt from the sky more than she’s trusted anyone. Only Costia has ever compared and, even then, Clarke is nothing like her first love. Her soul swells with love and her heart burns with conviction. Lexa takes her hand without question and allows herself to be led through the halls.

She instantly recognizes the doors they stop in front of. They lead to Clarke’s rooms though that distinction means little anymore. They share a bed more nights than not. Anymore, Clarke only uses this room to see her people when they come to Polis. It raises questions in Lexa’s mind but she enjoys the mystery.

The doors open. The room is different than the last time she saw it. Colorful decorations are abound and in the corner stands a coniferous tree equally decked out. Clarke leads her into the middle of the room, her eyes flicking up to something above their heads. Lexa glances up as well, recognizing the mistletoe Clarke had found on their ride.

“Do you remember me telling about the holiday traditions I learned about on the Ark?”

“It was more of mention,” Lexa replies. “You didn’t really explain.”

Clarke breathes a laugh. “Well… Let’s start with the mistletoe; then I can introduce you to Christmas.”

If Lexa had been expecting an explanation to follow, she’d be sorely mistaken. She recognizes what she’s doing just seconds before Clarke seals their lips together but she melts into the kiss anyways, feeling warm and safe and contented. It’s nothing short of a miracle what the other girl can do to her.

When they part, Lexa can’t help but ask, “Was that a part of the tradition?”

“Yup,” she answers, smiling. “It’s good luck to kiss beneath the mistletoe. But that’s not even half of it.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to show me more.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing Clexa and it somehow ends up being holiday fluff. Anyways. I hope you enjoyed this fic; comments are greatly appreciated. You can find me on [Tumblr](https://problematiquefics.tumblr.com/) where I accept fic prompts (and would love some fluffy Clexa prompts!)


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